Control
by SpiritofElements
Summary: Control: to exercise restraint or show direction over. It's hard to keep a rein on life and many times, it's goes completely insane. Life's a dirty process of hurt and agony because more than often, the moment everything's right, it goes completely wrong. Yet sometimes, when it feels like you'll never belong, there's that one person who was meant to be right beside you.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

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She could feel it.

It was a throbbing persistent hum which beckoned her to a home of misty warmth up above the luminous sunshine and the opaque clouds; into a world of spirits and eternal peace where the successful reside when their time fades.

Her husband lied beside her on their mattress, unbeknownst to his lover's calls to leave him and the bed cold. His annoying snores which kept her eyes bloodshot and her restless mind awake for hours before, suddenly transformed into tranquil breaths which soothed her ashen eyes to a slightly softened glaze. The truth was, she had been receiving the same distant message for nearly half a year now. Visions of Avatar Aang any million others patiently waiting in her bedroom corner for her to arrive. Not visions anymore though. From the corner of her eye, she could easily spot his orange robes blowing in a nonexistent wind.

She should've expected it, considering she had maxed out her life limit thoroughly with all the endless sparring and pro-bending, the heated arguments and sassy remarks that ironically stung the people she loved the most, the passionate escapes at nightfall with her lover, the even more passionate arguments with her eldest daughter during her infamous teenage era, the softer moments where she'd lean against the window sill watching her grandchildren tackle her husband in a love-fest….

Wow. She really had done it all.

Now aging into a fine ninety two year old woman, she had accomplished marrying the man she loved, bearing two bothersome yet completely amazing children, and providing the needed peace her City and the world so desperately needed.

She should receive an award for it all.

She smirked at the thought. Even after all these years, her inflated ego had barely shrunk.

"I love you so much," she whispered hoarsely, not wanting to leave just yet, before planting the faintest kiss on her husband's resting lips. With her farewell finished, she clenched his hand tighter and closed her eyes, patiently waiting just like her previous reincarnations had at their time.

Their ominous shadows stood. She dug deeper into his chest. He slept peacefully.

And it was over. The mighty Avatar Korra's thundering heartbeat dwindled to a quiet tap…and to nothing. Yet, despite being the most powerful being in the entire world, there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Aang watched as the old woman transformed into her youthful self once more. Her wrinkles smoothened into the elegant brown it always shone and her silver hairs blackened to their normal curls.

"Welcome back, Korra."

It wasn't the grandest of a greeting. Instead of the expected warm hug and welcoming smile, he watched a tad sympathetic as her eyes fixated behind her shoulder, watching in silent pain as her husband slept with her corpse.

"It's okay," Katara appeared from behind Aang's tall shadow and placed a loving pat on her shoulder, "It'll hurt, but it will heal and soon enough, he'll be in your arms again."

Korra only nodded sadly before regaining her bearings. No more was she the old prune Katara who smelt of warmth and seawater…here, in her place, was the most _beautiful_ woman Korra had ever laid eyes on. Her luscious brown hair fell sweetly to the side, caressing the soft features of her cleansed and nearly ethereal face. Her usually sorrow face beamed stronger now that Aang's hand was intertwined with hers. This was where they belonged…

Ignoring the slight tinge of envy seeing the lovers reunited, Korra tore her gaze away from the earth below. "What about the next Avatar? Earth Kingdom now, right?"

It was a diversion of topic, something Aang completely understood but Katara couldn't. It resulted in a blatant rise of motherly lectures which threatened to reason once more to Korra that pushing these emotions aside wasn't the way to go…but her rampage was thwarted by Aang's stiff nod. She obeyed silently.

Kyoshi took the opportunity to make her appearance. It caught Korra by surprise. Was she always right behind Aang? "There's been a slight change of plans," Kyoshi explained.

"What?"

Aang replied Korra, "The Spirits have found another dimension in need of our help. They haven't specified much, but the new reincarnation will not be born in our world."

"I-I don't understand. There's a second world?"

"Yes," Roku's towering form suddenly appeared from a flash of fire, an entrance he particular favored, though it seemed to grow old on the other reincarnations for Korra was the only one who watched in awe. Could she do the same with water too?! "More than two, actually. Millions of lives exist and similarly, the same amount of worlds do too. They encircle each other in the universe in an eternal whip of universe. Ours is just a mere stroke in the overall painting."

"So the Avatar's going to be born in another world?"

"Exactly." It was Aang who confirmed her doubts.

"Then, how will he or she learn the art of bending? Or of the Avatar's story and culture? We can't just leave the person all alone in a new world and expect them to be of help!"

"And that's why we need to send a knowledgeable person along with the Avatar Spirit. It has to be someone who'll be reincarnated, but still connected with the knowledge of their previous self." It was Katara now who spoke. The spirits surrounded Korra, and from the shading of the World's strange lights, their faces became even more serious and intimidating.

"Who will it be?" Korra stuttered, though she already partially knew the answer.

_Of course…_

**O*O*O*O*O*O*O***

"Sriya, eat your breakfast or you'll be late for school! And lift up your head, you're going to break it soon enough!"

Her mother's voice barely registered into the nine year old girl's occupied mind. Her neck was once more bent painfully over a novel as her eyes raced closer to the climax. "Wait, mom!" Her hand waved distantly as the riveting tale reached its peak. There it was, _the warrior woman raising her sword in the final swipe as her mighty steed soared through the air! Her cape fluttered violently into a hardened crisp under the malicious villain's fire, but the animal bore on, bravely ignorant of the blinding pain. And here it was, the blow of silver destined for the monster's crimson-_

The book slammed closed in a ferocious thud.

"_Mom_!" Her fingers desperately grasped at the pages under her mother's firm fist, but it was no use. The poor novel was trapped in her mother's cage which was welded with the strongest reinforcements known to mankind.

"No more! You're going to eat now if it kills you. God knows you need the nutrition." Her mother tightened around her wrist and practically dragged the crestfallen child out of her dimly lit bedroom room and into the blinding sunshine of the kitchen.

"The light _burns_!" her daughter cried dramatically as her free arm shielded the sun's malicious fire.

Her mother smiled softly at her daughter's crazy antics. "I blame the books," she'd complain to her friends every Saturday night (customary 'girl night' for all the women on the block) and it really wasn't that off the mark. "Now come on, eat up."

Sriya was old enough to make her own meals now, _finally._ If it was her parents who still fed her, fruits and other nutritional crap would be squashed down her throat.

She nimbly jumped onto the kitchen counter and reached for the highest cupboard, pulling her cereal out and pouring it into a nearby bowl. She never ate much, which explained her terribly skinny frame. But appearances can be deceiving. Despite looking like a twig ready to splinter, the girl packed a _mean_ kick.

She discovered the talent when a boy at her school called her a 'wimpy girl who'll live her life in the kitchen and take care of the children'. Now, Sriya was the most reasonable and quiet girl her mother ever knew. It took a _lot _to make the child angry, but when she was, _she was a bull_. Nothing could hold her rage back and all hell would break loose. So, at that moment, the loud-mouthed boy was the red cape and she was the seething animal. The cape was destined for hurt and Sriya still doesn't regret her actions despite the cast on the boy's broken leg.

After all, she _was_ a Taurus so at least she could blame astrology for her violent temper.

The incident branded her as the feared legend of the school, so added with her not so great social skills and tendency to be slightly over-straightforward, making friends became a difficulty.

The only friendship she had ever managed to form was with her mother's close friend, Midel. She was a thirty year old wrestler and her personality was no-nonsense, stiff, and guarded while Sriya's was reasonable, passionate, and overall caring. But despite it all, they made the best pair.

Midel's story was a tough one. She was born to a family enslaved to poverty and drugs of San Francisco's darkest alleyways. Disgusted with the lifestyle she was brought into, she salvaged enough money and spare change to take the Bart train and escape the city. It was easier said than done, no doubt, but Midel never regretted her actions to work solo.

College was out of the question for the otherwise talented woman. Though she's never been too fond of math and science and similar subjects, she always knew that society only approved those fluent in it. She understood the bare minimum, but she needed more. More education equaled college which in turn meant _money_, a resource rarely found in Midel's life.

That's how she met Sriya's mother.

Sriya's mother owned a diner, a joint that was passed down through her family's generations for years. Midel started working as a waitress under her, and eventually the two became best of friends despite their strikingly different lives. Sriya's mother was the top of her class, and being the kind woman she was, she offered to tutor Midel if Midel taught her the basic martial arts. Midel had never been properly trained but if the alleys were good at anything, it was teaching fighting. Midel had managed to create her own self defense and Sriya's mother had the privilege to watch it first hand. She immediately craved to know the same and the two agreed to a simple barter system. Education in fighting in change for education in books.

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**AN:**

**Sriya is a Hindu name which is another name for Lakshmi (the goddess of wealth). It is prounounced: Riya with a 'SH' in front of it. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything**

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Sriya's mother was frantic and her husband could tell.

The landline slammed into the receiver with a click as she picked up a matchstick and lit it, breathing in the fire in a desperate attempt to stay calm, an attempt tried million times before. "I knew this day would eventually come," she whispered hoarsely, "But I was never actually ready for it." Her trembling wrinkled fingers lowered to the Douglas fir candle, a gift presented annually to her from Midel, on the slightly cracked kitchen counter. The wick ignited and smoked its fragrance throughout the room, followed by the swift smell of its jasmine counterpart and later, an apple crisp and cinnamon pumpkin. Dormant candles suddenly lighted throughout the house, all brought to life by the fretting woman who sought relaxation from the pungent scents.

Sriya's father's hand wrapped around her waist protectively, catching her as she leaned towards another wick, and his lips leaned down towards her ear. "It's our fault for not telling her before, you have to admit it," his deep voice reasoned calmly. But his wife was clearly not in the mood for reason.

She suddenly whipped around with bloodshot eyes and disarray curls which shined eerily from the candlelight. She cried, "Is it my fault for wanting our daughter to grow up _normal_?"

"Love-,"

"_No_! I stand by my choice no matter what she says! I thought I could prevent her from being cast away, from ever being told she was a…freak…." The word brought the woman's face crumpling as she fell into her husband's chest. "I just wanted what was best for her. I didn't want her to be bullied like me because she's an earthbender."

He stood sturdy and sane as his wife wept. It was always like this; the lack of emotion had once irritated Sriya to no other ends but she eventually learnt that it didn't necessarily mean he was indifferent.

Not a word was said. No comforting pat or loving embrace to lower the pain. But Sriya's mother knew from the solemn beat of his heart that he was grieving as well. "I called Midel. She said that Sriya ran away to her place right after the incident. She s-said that she…she _hates _us for not being honest and telling her of her abilities beforehand." Her dark brown eyes looked up uncomfortably, "I wasn't wrong, was I?"

Her only reply was a stiff silence. She already knew the answer, though. Looking at the broken floor and backyard, poor victims of Sriya's newly discovered bending, was answer enough.

**O*O*O*O*O*O***

Midel arrived to her modest apartment from the grocery store with a smile, a gift found rare on her usual 'poker face'. Something about the abundant sunshine and gallons of coffee she guzzled just that morning had triggered a sudden content in her heart. Not to mention today was the day she was going to finally begin her annual kayaking trip with her favorite goddaughter. The past few months had been taxing on the high school senior, but Sriya had finally managed to settle her college plans and receive a seat in University of California, Los Angeles, or more commonly known as UCLA. She was going to be become a doctor, a profession the little girl had been dreaming of doing ever since she first created a badge for herself with the words 'Dr. Podila' written in crayon.

Anyway, the paperwork was settled and the eighteen year old was _finally_ free enough for a summer trip they had been postponing for too long.

Yet, of course, she should have noticed that it was too good to be true, such happiness never lasted long.

She entered the apartment to come face to face with one of the _ugliest _pictures she'd ever seen. Sriya, a woman of decorum and stability, was now an antonym of her own definition. There she was, lying brokenly on the living room couch with a tangled bush replacing her neatly groomed curls and dirt caked over her jeans and cheeks. The face sagged inwards and the sharp eyes suddenly pierced Midel in a way that made the wrestler want to duck beneath the table and pray.

She approached her warily but was cut short on her way.

"You must've known. You were best friends after all." Her voice sounded confused rather than aggressive, and succeeded in keeping a safe distance. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Now Midel was equally bewildered. "I have no idea what you're talking about, champ? But can I suggest a shower-"

"_Midel_! Stop changing the topic and just fucking tell me."

"Champ," Midel sighed as she plopped down beside the teen and enveloped Sriya in a way that was only reserved for her. The eighteen year old always felt rather diminutive whenever she was lost in her burly arms; though it secured her nonetheless. "Tell me what's wrong."

It didn't take much time for Sriya to allow herself to sink deeper in. "I was having a fight with Jaron-,"

"The little piece of shit who lives across your street? He stole two bucks from me!"

"Yeah, that's him. All the kids of the street were playing football in our backyard and he kept saying that I couldn't beat him. He said horrible things like how women suck at football, Midel, the fucking_ asshole_. And when I did beat him-,"

"That's my girl. Show the fucker who's right."

"-He started accusing me of _cheating_." The disgusting word made her lips cringe. Sriya was always one to abide the rules, especially when it came to her 'honor'. Playing dirty was a concept unknown to the woman and the prospect of being accused of such atrocity made her blood boil. "Anyway, I got a little carried away and said a few things and that's when he punched me."

This was when Midel suddenly shot up in anger. "_Where is the fucking piece of shit?!"_

Sriya's arms reached up and dragged the fuming woman back beside her. "Midel, please. Forget him now, I'm not done yet."

It was probably a lost cause for Midel to ever forget it, but she tried anyway, content with seeing a painful wedgie in Jaron's close future.

"That was when something…strange…happened." Midel watched expectantly as Sriya hesitated. "A rock suddenly slammed out of nowhere and hit him unconscious…"

_Oh._

Sriya seemed to notice the sudden enlightenment in Midel's face. "You knew," her eyes squinted angrily as she informed defiantly, "_You knew I was an earthbender._"

"I-I, yes, I knew." Her goddaughter's eyes became violent. "Now, let's not get too hasty! Your mother only did this for your own good. Please, Sriya, try to understand. Your mother's been through a lot…she did this for _you_. We thought the longer you didn't know, the better off you'd be-"

The screeching phone interrupted her explanation. Midel's cream hand reached for the banshee and muttered, "Well speak of the devil, it's your mom." She nimbly picked it up, keeping a wary eye on her raging goddaughter. "Uh huh, she's here….no problem, she did run away but she's alright…I'll sort it out….calm down, I got this okay…Breathe, come on now….yeah…bye." She turned around back to Sriya. "Sriya-,"

"How long did you think you could hide it from me? I can't believe you, Midel!"

"As long as I needed to!" she retorted, "And I was ready to do it because your mother wanted me to. For the record, though, I was completely against it."

Now Sriya was utterly confused.

"Earthbending is a sacred art that is rare to the world now," Midel began sagely, "It's the culture of roots and stability to use the earth as an accomplice: to _bend _the element of earth. When I found out your mother was an earthbender as well, I was amazed! I thought I was the only one…the last of my kind. But then she came along, and she gave birth to _you_." Midel's finger scraped the salty tear off Sriya's cheek and smiled, "You were a prodigy," her whisper came out proud, "The most talented bender I had ever seen…but your mother was scared, fearful that you'd be labeled a 'freak' for the rest of your life. So she never mentioned it and without the proper training, your skills dwindled down and only appeared in moments of danger or anger."

"That's why…"

"Yes, it's probably why Jaron's in the hospital right now and why your house is a jagged mess."

Sriya chuckled sheepishly. "Dad's going to kill me."

"Most probably," Midel agreed knowing they'd most probably just be glad that their only daughter was back home and safe. "Let's take you back home, okay?"

**O*O*O*O*O*O*O***

"Mi-Midel?"

Sriya stared slack jawed at the flames as she stood frozen in Midel's car. There it was: the majestic house she had always called home. It always seemed so untouchable. So secure, so stable; the only thing in her life she could always fall back on and know nothing had changed. Her mother would still be lighting a candle and drinking her tea. Her father, still bent over his inventions with a handy dandy gallon of gasoline and a wrench beside him. And her room would still be eternally packed with a pile of books and posters.

Yet here it was, crisping in painful fire as the universe mocked her faith.

She couldn't move. Her limbs became stiff in internal agony. Nothing mattered. The neighbors tugged her away. Midel's rock hard body stumbled into her fiercely. The heat scorched her face despite being feet away. But she _had _to do something. She found herself praying for control; control of her limbs, control of the fire, control of her parents' _lives_.

They were still in there, screaming in painful agony…and what was even worse was that she could hear them. No, they weren't real screams. They were in her head, pounding at her skull with terrible thuds.

"_Sriya!_"

It was Midel who broke her parents' voices. She was screaming at her to come back, but she had no control. Her previously broken legs suddenly revived and broke into a sweaty sprint straight into the falling house. Her instincts went into overdrive as she swiftly managed to jump over the obstacles, the firefighters, the civilians armed with buckets of water, and disintegrating wood. There she was now, in the middle of the fire and she could feel her body twist inside out. Flames licked ferociously on her burning skin. She could hear her hair sizzle to a crisp. She could see the taunting element as it dared her to go another step in search of the burning corpses. She could feel the touch of the burning fire. She could smell the distinct scent of her scorching flesh mixed with a pungent jasmine…._jasmine?_

.

She couldn't make out much. But she could tell from the lack of noise other than the ferocious crackling of fire that her parents were no more.

Midel watched in utter fear as her goddaughter took off into the burning building. "_Sriya!_" she screamed to no avail. The woman didn't even bat an eyelash her way. Midel ran after her but stopped when a cloud of fire burst right in her way. The sturdy wrestler was caught off guard and was thrown back a couple of feet. Seeing that pulling the teen out wasn't going to be the best option, she immediately joined the neighbors and flung the water insanely. The droplets evaporated before they could even reach the hungry flame. Firefighters brought the civilians back and she was forced to observe from the sidewalk and swallow her fear.

"Come on, Sriya," she whispered to herself in cracked tones, "Get back here. Stay alive."

She couldn't lose all three of them in the same day. She had already lost so much.

Just as she found herself being forced to mourn her goddaughter's death, a blinding white light shot into the skies, piercing through the orange glowing flames. The house roof cracked open like an egg and gave birth to the light's source. Midel's eyes squinted and she recognized the scorched figure. It was Sriya!

The woman's eyes shined the bright white which chilled Midel to the core. It was unearthly and unmerciful, as though a spirit had possessed the compassionate woman and transformed her into a vicious devil. Her body constricted tightly as a flash of elements levitated in the air. Fire and earth combined in a terrible spectacle, clashing violently and spurting the debris in all directions.

Midel found herself stuck in the crowds as they cowered beneath cars and fled behind homes in fright. It took all her might to squirm through the stampede and make her way towards her floating goddaughter.

"Hey, you!" a firefighter screamed through the roars, "_Are you crazy_? Get out of there!"

Midel remained ignorant of the warnings and managed to stand right underneath Sriya, concealed in her shadow. It was safe to walk now since all the fire was whipping around its wielder and was no longer engulfing the house. No flames scorched Midel's skin and all stray rocks were swiftly dodged.

The wrestler punched the ground and went flying up, perched on a finely made earthen pillar that pierced the fiery sphere. She was now only a few feet away from Sriya, who at first glance may have been a frightening sight, but was actually the saddest thing Midel had ever seen. If a spectator looked close enough, they could make out the solemn tears trailing down the glowing irises before the evaporated from the intense heat.

"I'm here," Midel screamed as compassionately as she could in the loud volume. "You still have me! It's alright Sriya, I'm here!"

It took a few minutes for her to calm down, and even longer for the sobbing to cease. Strange officers dressed in crisp suits had already surrounded the crumbled scene with intimidating guns and glasses. The officers, who named themselves as workers of SHIELD, wanted to test Sriya and see 'what the hell this crazy devil of a god exactly is' in their own words. Midel had insisted that her goddaughter wasn't a 'crazy devil' but they seemed unconvinced.

Who could blame them?

And that was how Sriya found herself ripped from Midel's secure grasp forever, chained like a madwoman, whom she did act like at that moment, pierced with an injection that made her feel faint, and dumped into a black van which would transport her to the bottom of hell itself.

She could still vividly hear her parents' cries through the crackling flames. She could still feel the rage and sorrow that fueled her veins with the ferocious energy and light. It scared her.

What the hell was she?

The tears were still damp on her cheeks and the noise was still chaotic in her ears. She found herself flinching at the slightest noise. But God had mercy on her and unconsciousness took control over her, taking advantage of the weariness from her wounds.

If only the wounds never healed. Then maybe she'd be better off with her parents. It was the last sane thought she could muster before her heavy lids shut.

**O*O*O*O*O*O*O***

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**A/N: The Avengers section of the story is coming very soon! (I'll probably be updating once or twice a week. Sorry it's been slow now but this girl's got a pretty busy schedule.)**

**I've actually got most of the skeleton plot down and have already managed to compose nearly the entire story (might as well call it a fuckass epic cause it's literally going to take a million chapters because that's how good and awesome it's going to turn out to be if it goes along with my vision.)**

**Love you, and I'd love it if you could critic my writing. There's always room for improvement, right?**


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